The Flood
by Grapefruit-seven
Summary: Four young Gerudo and the prisoner Link almost get crushed in the sandstorm of Gerudo Desert only to be saved by the Dark Beast Ganon. AU with Ganon as a separate being. Set after OoT, covers why the flood of Wind Waker happens


**Chapter 1: Capture the prisoners**

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"Capture the prisoners!" Aveil screamed. It was unnecessary – everybody was on the run already. Of course only **after** the shock of seeing one of the prison doors open and no one inside.

They are the guards of the prisoners. The third-in-command had specifically entrusted **her** to be the assistant leader of prisoner guards. It had been an honour for the little girl, like a dream coming true. No longer a scrubby kid, no! She was on her way to being an acknowledged Gerudo, a true adult. Even though it was kind of boring to watch over the prisoners and bring them food. Though… Maple often complained that hide and seek was funnier than this. It sounded so childish! She at least wasn't a small kid anymore! She had duty! Not her problem if the others don't see it as mature as her.

She was in a panic by now. How had the prisoners escaped? How many? Where did they flee to? They had to catch them as soon as possible!

Everybody bolted from the iron prisoner cell with the treacherous partly open prison cell.

"The prisoners must be somewhere in the North!" Nabo shouted. "We have to alert the other guards!" "No!" Aveil screamed back, anger surfacing on her face. She was the leader, not that Nabo!

Nabo whipped her head around to Aveil while they kept running out of the dungeons. "Aveil, these prisoners might be stronger than all of us! If we try to take them alone, they'll get away! We need the help of the adults!" "No!" Aveil retorted stubborn. "Search for the prisoners! We're not dependant on the adults! We're strong enough!" she yelled and sped ahead, completely ignoring Nabo's angry pout.

* * *

Normally they hissed in pain when they stepped onto the hot sand of the desert. It was always as hot as a frying pan, especially for kids that didn't own shoes yet. Shoes are for the adults, for those considered worthy with their skills at archery, with fighting on horseback and with wielding the deadly double sabres. Shoes are for the worthy Gerudos, not for the small kids.

The old grandmothers often told their pleading kids that it was a very long tradition that only adults had shoes and it was a special kind of acknowledgement for a Gerudo to be gifted with shoes by the leader. It wasn't an approval as grand as when a Gerudo got her forehead diadem and not followed with the most important religious festival, but it was showing the different between an acknowledged Gerudo and a kid – or a prisoner.

Adults often told their pleading kids that not wearing shoes made them harder, stronger and more resistant against the deadliness of the desert. They told the kids that the longer you run without shoes, the faster you get.

Kids on the other hand quickly reached to the obvious agreement that **these** explanations are rubbish.

* * *

As soon as their bare toes touched the hot sand on the square, they split up and rushed in different directions.

The most common sound in every Gerudos' life was the whistling of the warm wind coming from the wasteland, accompanied by the flapping of the many clothes on the houses, tents and flags. And each time a gust of wind blew through the village you could also listen to the many wind chimes and, if you're lucky, the sacred whistling stones of the ancestors. On some tranquil days Gerudos liked to bring their instruments, sat somewhere in the village and played. Instant music sessions are always a funny thing.

Aveil's eyes sped around, desperately searching for any clue of the escapee. Faint banjo tunes were things that indicated Gerudo being here. Everyone else was lingering around inside, since every preparation had been done earlier the day.

They were preparing for an oncoming sandstorm.

"There! Aveil! I see one!"

Aveil's head shot around to detect Maple waving eagerly with her short, drawn dagger and pointing outside. Outside the village. Oh, may the Goddess of Sand bless them – there was a prisoner outside the Gerudo Village! Outside! Why wasn't there someone on the guarding post?

Aveil's mind raced. How many other prisoners were left? Should they follow the escapee outside the village or keep searching inside the fort? These runaways outside the cottage were food for the vultures for sure – only Gerudos can venture the desert without getting lost in the dunes. But the other prisoners that stayed inside the village might be caught by other Gerudos, wouldn't they? Aveil cursed under her breath. She already envisioned the disappointed scowl on her leader's face and imagined her haunting voice: "Go home, kid – you're not worth our time."

The other Gerudos will notice the runaways' escape, whether she wanted it or not. **But** if Aveil came home with all of the prisoners and from outside in the desert, that would astonish even the best Gerudo women – a kid younger than them, not even allowed to wear shoes, brought back escaped prisoners from the hot desert. Now **that** were faces Aveil wanted to see!

"Aveil! There's a second one!" Jolene made hasty signs for Aveil and Nabo to speed up. After Maple had found the retreating back of the man running into the desert by pure luck, Jolene had jogged up at her side and in front of the big, wooden red gate. Wind packed with sand whirled in their faces and blew in the red flags surrounding the gate to the desert. Every time a Gerudo got lost in the wasteland, people tied another red piece of cloth on a pole or on the gate leading to the desert, in hope that the missing ones will see the red colour from afar and find their way back. At least that was what Jolene's grandaunt had told her. But Jolene and the other kids doubted that – after all every Gerudo could find the way back to the fortress by instinct. But the red pieces of cloth made good warning signs like 'Do not exit here!' if somebody ever got lost.

Jolene fixated the retreating figure. Just now she found another blob heading after the person, probably a kid. Jolene cursed loudly. Kids weren't that good merchandise for a slave trade, but Gerudos often raised children they caught and sold them some years later for a much better prize when they hit puberty. It was like a flower – the best time to cut it was when it started to bloom. At least that was what adults told her. In a way children were even better than grown adults since kids can be taught and weren't that stubborn like adults.

Aveil skidded to a halt in between her and Maple, fixating the figures in the distance, while Nabo lagged behind with a pout on her face. Jolene chose to ignore the redhead and focused on Aveil's command instead.

"We're going after them!" All of them nodded and ran out into the desert with its hot sand that burned their bare feet and a wind full of grains of sand.

Well… not everyone rushed out. Nabo strayed behind for a moment, not that long enough that the other three noticed her absence, but long enough to put off one of her earrings and drop it right after the exit towards the desert. The gleaming of the earring would be enough to lead the much more reasonable adults to their trail. Aveil was an idiot to think she could catch the prisoners alone! She should have listened to her instead! Stupid Aveil!

Nobody seemed to notice her gloating in silence as she hurried after her three comrades.

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Hot sand sunk into his heels and seeped between his toes. He barely noticed his feet getting red from the heat underneath. He was concentrated on getting as far as he could from **there**. Treading on sand was like walking with wet shoes. It was incredibly slow.

And every time he shot a glance back, he wondered if he had moved at all. The fortress was still visible, a black and red mass against the yellow of the wasteland. Every time he expected riders coming after them with their sharp scimitars and scary faces.

He expected them to charge them as fierce like their name was – as fierce as they did in the stories. And as fierce as they did last time.

When he had been a small kid, his grandmother sometimes told him stories about all weird inhabitants of Hyrule – from the mighty Gorons to the elegant Zoras, from the happy Kokiri to the fierce Gerudos. Her stories may be happy, sad, exciting or peaceful – but Link never imagined them to come true.

He had learned it the hard way.

Link shot another pained glance back over the hot desert towards the entrance of that fateful, cursed Village. His whole family still was being imprisoned there. Only he and two other prisoners had the luck of being able to escape. He felt tears welling up behind his eyes, but he fought against them. He had to escape first!

His heart skipped a beat. They had noticed! They were following! He could make out four persons running in their direction. Four Gerudos.

No!

Link broke out in a run as well, his face twisted in fright, pain and concentration.

"Hey, what…?" the other escapee, a brown-haired man in front of him, asked confused, but his words trailed off as the guy saw Link's cause of haste. He cursed.

The more they run, the more Link felt his strength leave him. His lungs burned with the hot air and his muscles screamed in protest. He shut his eyes in concentration.

Unexpectedly he slipped on the sand of a dune and lost his footage. Time seemed to slow down as he stumbled forward. It felt like a bottomless pit. And then his entire weight crashed onto his foot. Link screamed in pain and crushed on his side. The motion was enough to trigger him rolling down the dune in a cloud of sand.

"You're okay, kid!?" he heard the escapee scream to him from on top of the dune. Link only groaned in pain. Luckily the sand had cushioned his fall. But his right foot hurt like hell. Slowly he tried to get up in a sitting position. It was too much.

* * *

Their group advanced on.

Aveil was speeding forward, hearing the other three on her sides and behind her.

She saw the kid slipping and twisting his ankle, then tumbling and rolling down the dune. Well, one of two already taken down. She was lucky today!

The other escapee stopped, probably to go down and help the kid, but as he saw the quickly advancing Gerudos, he readied himself for an oncoming fight, his face grim. The stance he took told every experienced Gerudo to be wary of him, that he was a formidable opponent to deal with – even without any weapons at hand. But the four Gerudo that came charging at him were only kids. Kids with deadly weapons, but granted for him they didn't know how to handle them properly. Easy opponents. Had the Gerudo gone weak? To think they sent **children** to stop him! He sneered.

As soon as they reached the adult, the Gerudo shouted their high battle cries and charged, already outworn from the earlier running. He evaded their short weapons and waited for an opening on his enemies' side. It came surprisingly fast.

The brats didn't even work in a team and blocked themselves with their efforts to take him down. The man wondered it was a miracle they hadn't hurt each other. Right after one brat swung an exaggerated, unbalanced stride, the man simply kicked her – exactly like you kick a puppy - in the gut and down the dune. Gasps of the girl's name "Jolene!" followed. The Gerudo squirts stopped dead in their tracks, apparently too frightened to attack. However right as the man thought they would run back to their mommas with their tails behind their legs, the little brats collectively roared and attacked yet again. Stubborn girls.

It was growing harder for the man to defend against three girls at the same time, but also harder for the inexperienced children to work together and avoid the man's kicks and punches the same time. Jolene had saved them from a vicious attack by crashing herself at the unexpected man's back, but even with the sudden return of their fourth comrade, Nabo sported a swollen eye, Maple held her shoulder in pain and every girl had bruises and cuts. But the man wasn't faring that good as well – he received several smaller wounds and a large gash on his thigh. Nonetheless unlike the poor girls, he wasn't nearly as exhausted as them.

Thick sweat drops rolled over their bodies. Aveil felt pain and exhaustion seeping through her, accompanied with dread and fright. The fight was starting to get one-sided while the girls lost their stamina faster than the man.

It also became harder to see things clear by the second. The wind had considerably increased and howled sand in their eyes and mouth.

Aveil spat. It made her wonder why there were so many grains there. Perplexed she finally noticed some minor detail. A detail she had forgotten when they rushed out of the village.

A sensation of fear seared through her veins. "S-" she got a mouthful of sand and spat it out with a disgusted, nauseous feeling.

"Sandstorm!"

Even if the other three heard her through the rushing wind, they didn't have any time to respond. The man caught three of them in a powerful kick that sent them flying and crushing in the sand. And with a second move he punched Aveil in the face. Hard.

Stars fluttered through her vision and blackness took over the edges of her vision. For a moment everything was weightless, like she was flying. Then her back hit the sand and in a blur of whirled sand she was rolling the dune down. Dizziness and darkness threatened to claim her, but she struggled to stay awake despite all the hurt. She had to take everyone to a shelter! Or else they'll be buried alive!

Only her determination kept her from fainting, but she pushed up and crawled towards the darker spot near her. By now the only difference between earth and sky was her feeling the sand underneath. Something warm tickled down her chin. Clouds of yellow sand howled by and hit her constantly in the face, making it almost impossible to see.

Aveil felt all her power leave her. Her hands gave in and she crushed on the ground.

But she couldn't let everybody down… she had to bring them …. to savet…

The world went black.

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On the other side the escapee was less lucky.

He shielded his eyes with his hands and kept walking forward, without seeing anything in the sandstorm. But he kept going anyway.

Some place to rest… some place to get out of the constant hitting of the sand…

For the foreigner it felt as if the wasteland itself had come to life to avenge him for taking down its inhabitants. The howling of the raging wind sounded awfully a lot like the spirits of the dead; as if they cursed bloody murder on him for trespassing on their land.

He kept going nonetheless.

Suddenly he could make out a difference in the endless tides of the sandstorm. A vague form, too big and massive to belong to a human. A rock? At least it secured more from the sandstorm than on open field.

However the further he came near the huge object, the more he began to doubt it **was** a rock. Following a sudden intuition, he stopped dead in his track. He wasn't imagining it. The **rock** itself kept coming nearer.

And when he blinked against the heavy sand, he could make out legs. And the heavy sound of a creature coming directly at him. He finally realized his mistake.

That… wasn't a rock.

It wasn't a normal animal either. It was far too big to be one.

He staggered a few steps back as he tried to comprehend the sight before him.

It was a beast. No word described it better.

While its head resembled the one of a boar with its mighty, sharp tusks and its snout, never before had he seen a boar of the height of a house, with muscles that told you it could take down a whole castle. But its disturbing paws similar to human hands put the lid on it. The black beast with the bristling, long red mane glared at him with empty, white eyes. He felt them boring into his very soul and shivered unintentionally.

He was scared shitless of the powerful monster towering in front of him.

He had only one thing to do. He jolted away panic-struck and ran for his dear life.

A deep roar rose behind him. A roar straight from the hell that made the grains of sand vibrate under his feet and giving him goosebumps all over. It vibrated within his body and made old animalistic fear scream in his mind. Run! Run! Run away!

Something flashed both sides of his vision and he screeched in pain.

The gigantic beast swallowed him whole.

.

.

His yell was the only thing that lived for a few seconds longer.

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_Hello to my new fanfiction idea! _

_Basically an AU that takes place after Ocarina of Time and many years before Wind Waker. The Great Sea has yet to rain upon the poor Hylians and the Hero of Time has morphed into a legend already. The most important Alternative Universe - part however will fully make his appearance in the next chapter._

_Btw - Aveil, Nabo(ru), Maple, Jolene and Link are only kids named after the real characters. They share their basic characteristics, but are their own characters (just for information ;) )._

_Right now I'm having loads of fun with them - I don't know where the story leads me._

_Of course I have a vague idea where I want to land, but this world keeps getting bigger and broader with every sentence I write. __But I noticed even though I've read loads of English stories, that don't make me an author. Authors need muuuch patience… *gains +2 points of respect (for Authors)* _

_And it's increased hard if English isn't your first language. Likewise action scenes are hard to write._

_Also, just to say – I had to restrict myself from letting Aveil scream "Gonna Catch them All!" It totally fits into the theme. Now imagine what creatures you could capture in the Gerudo Desert and fight the championship of Hyrule with it. Beat all the 7 gym sages, defeat the evil organization "G" on the way and become the chosen champion Hero. Well, well…_

_Death in the first act! And... it won't be the last to be munched by a certain red-haired pig. So yeah, warning for this and chapters afterwards - characters migth be eaten. Yum yum._


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